Last Human On Earth

      I stare, seated on my throne, book in my lap. 

    The castle's hall is barren, echoing with a deafening, and lonely silence. 

    I was the only one that woke up today. The only one that sailed across the sea. The only one that strolled into this vacant kingdom. the only one left standing on this planet. 

    I am the last human on planet Earth. 

    At the beginning I was overjoyed to discover that I was immortal and immune to the disease that wiped out every human on Earth. 

    "GOOD RIDDANCE!" I had screamed into the empty planet, while standing on the roof of a skyscraper. 

    There were no more parents to abuse me, no more so called friends to stab me in the back, no more terrible, terrible people. 

    I could have anything I wanted! no restrictions! I enjoyed raiding stores, people's homespun and anything I could find. It was the life... for a little while. 

    One night I had stuffed myself with junk food and pills, trying to mute the pain of loneliness that had just begun to emerge. I woke up in my mansion's bed, to the sound of a dog's frantic barking outside. The pills and junk food had done their work last night, and I had passed out, my pain swimming under the sea of hallucinations and dreams. But now that a new morning had begun, I found myself drowning in loneliness once more. 

    Staggering outside, I swung open the door to reveal, lo and behold, a puppy. 

    Its fur black like night, large round eyes peering up at me. Something in me wanted to walk away, not get attached to anything or anyone, especially not now. 

    But the longing to love and be loved was stronger. 

    So I took the puppy up in my arms and closed the door. 

    I named her Hope. For obvious reasons. Then one day, Hope and I decided to go travel this empty world. Go on our own little adventure and see what we could find. there was a whole planet out there and no one to stop us. 

    I learned how to sail. For a moment I wished some pilots were still alive so we could go by plane. But I quickly threw away the thought. 

    And ,e and my little black puppy ventured off into the sea... a sea full of tragedy. 

    We hit a storm. All I could focus on was holding onto the boat's pole as tight as I could, lest I be thrown off into the raging sea. 

    I heard a yelp. Frantic barking that brought me back to the day I got Hope. 

    "HOPE!!" I screamed in terror, my eyes clawing past the pouring rain, making out a small, trembling figure. Hope turned large frightened eyes to me. I reached out a desperate hand towards her, hoping that she'd see the gesture, hoping she'd jump into my arms. Hoping beyond all hope that we'd make it out of here alive. 

    That's when the sea decided that Hope was not mine, but that she belonged to the waves. 

    A large wave loomed over us for a split second before snatching my puppy and taking her away from me. 

    And after that tragic day, my own hope was snatched away along with my puppy. 

    Soon I hit the edge of an island. In a dazed grief, I toppled out of the boat, wandering the island until I stumbled upon an empty kingdom. I found my way to the castle, glistening in glory despite its owners being gone. 

    And that is where I have lived for the past few years. Alone in my castle, killing every creature that stumbles into my territory. I've tried letting God take me up to heaven, by tossing myself off of buildings, and using some of the torture weapons I found in the prison cells.

    But by God's curses, I am immortal. 

     The only thing that is keeping me alive, mentally and emotionally--as much as I can be-- is actually, writing in a journal. I write down every thought, every feeling. I suppose it gives the illusion that someone is there, listening. 

    It helps... as much as it can at this point. 

    But something strange has happened. I'm sitting on my throne, staring down at my journal in my lap. And scribbled on the bottom of my last entry, in red ink, are the words: You are not alone. 

    My heart leaps into my dry throat. My stomach ties itself into a knot, somersaulting over itself a dozen times. 

    Who has written in my journal? Surely I'm the only person left on planet Earth. I haven't seen a human being in over four years. 

    Then who has written in my journal? 

    I tell myself if there is someone out there, that I'd kill them, make them get what they deserve. But then, there's this small voice. Of Hope. And despite myself, I pick up my pen, press the tip onto the next blank page, and write back.